


Just Breathe

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Category: Popslash
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Nipple Piercings, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: The menu of the dvd looped over and over, just about silently, and Chris was a heavy warm weight on his arm. It was sappy as all hell for Joey to be lying there with a remote control poking him in the butt, feeling Chris breathe under his arm and studying Chris’s sleeping face, the way his eyelids flickered occasionally and the moving half-light slid colours over his skin.If he didn’t know for a sure thing that Chris was asleep, and that Lance was both not in the house and at least this sappy when he thought no one was watching, Joey might even have felt defensive about it. As it was, Joey merely wriggled a little to get his elbow underneath himself, so he could get a better look, ‘cause he was pretty sure that the occasional bout of awed adoration was a perfectly proper reaction to finding himself with two amazing guys who knew him and his history and loved him anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm meant to be writing my dwnoga story, so, obviously, I wrote some self-indulgent ot3 instead ;) I have written shamefully little fic for them, after all. Many thanks to [](http://nopseud.livejournal.com/profile)[**nopseud**](http://nopseud.livejournal.com/) for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own damned fault.

The menu of the dvd looped over and over, just about silently, and Chris was a heavy warm weight on his arm. It was sappy as all hell for Joey to be lying there with a remote control poking him in the butt, feeling Chris breathe under his arm and studying Chris’s sleeping face, the way his eyelids flickered occasionally and the moving half-light slid colours over his skin.

If he didn’t know for a sure thing that Chris was asleep, and that Lance was both not in the house and at least this sappy when he thought no one was watching, Joey might even have felt defensive about it. As it was, Joey merely wriggled a little to get his elbow underneath himself, so he could get a better look, ‘cause he was pretty sure that the occasional bout of awed adoration was a perfectly proper reaction to finding himself with two amazing guys who knew him and his history and loved him anyway.

Chris shifted with him, a sleepy frown creasing his forehead for a moment. He settled again when Joey tightened his embrace a fraction, and then, after a while, Joey gave in to the temptation to ghost the pads of his fingers over the sliver of pale, soft skin that was exposed where Chris’s shirt had twisted up a little.

Apparently that tickled, because Chris brushed a hand fretfully over himself, pushing Joey away. Joey ducked to nuzzle Chris’s hair and whispered that it was just him, that Chris should sleep, while sliding his whole hand under Chris’s shirt, relishing the silky slide of skin under his palm, the tickle of sparse dark hairs. He skimmed his thumb over the hollow of Chris’s belly button, and breathed a soft sound of appreciation into the room. The house was so quiet he could hear every breath, the slight creaks of the leather when they shifted on the couch, the occasional click and flare from the fire.

He touched, gently, lazly, for a while, occasionally brushing dry kisses on Chris’s flattened hair, breathing in the way Chris smelt, noticing how the once-gelled points of hair brushed against his lips and underneath his chin, and the smoothness and lingering shaving cream scent where Chris had shaved late in the evening, wanting to be ready for Lance whenever the hell his plane finally got him back to them.

Joey’s hand kept slowly wandering over Chris, pushing the soft cotton jersey out of the way, tracing patterns and following the heat patterns, finding where Chris’s belly was hot to the touch between the fire and the way he was curled up, but that his hips were cooler, his skin warming slowly again as Joey’s fingers slid up his side.

Eventually his fingertips found themselves irresistibly drawn to Chris’s nipples even if the left-hand one was hard to reach with the way Chris was lying. There was no way Joey could not notice and stroke back and forth over the change of texture from chest to aureole, the way the silver ring caught the light from the tv, the way Joey couldn’t really make out the closest nipple darken as he touched, but he knew that it would.

Chris sighed and stretched, apparently still in his sleep, twisting further onto his back so the couch was even more cramped. Joey’s breath caught, his heart jumping as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, although he carefully kept his hand on Chris so that when he started stroking him again it wouldn’t be a shock.

Something about the way he was breathing made Joey pause and then creep his hand determinedly under Chris’s bunched up t-shirt to pinch the other nipple. Chris hissed and stiffened, and then melted back against Joey.

“Mmm. Don’t stop. S’nice.” Chris kept his eyes firmly shut, and Joey smiled, feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“I think so,” he murmured, returning to the gentle careful touches. “Faker.”

Chris nuzzled in, if possible, closer. “Yup.”

He still sounded sleepy – warm and content - and if Chris had been a cat, Joey was sure he’d have purred. He was pretty close to it himself, sweeping his hand in long lazy sweeps over his lover’s skin, and kissing along his eyebrow, the tip of his nose. Chris tilted his head back, asking for and accepting soft surface kisses, and releasing tiny breathy moans into the shadowed space between them. It was almost painfully sweet, sexy but not _sexy_ , but just really good, all loving and calm and timeless. It took a while for him to realise he was making similar little moans himself, in between murmuring ‘love you’ and ‘so good’.

Eventually Chris twisted on the couch, turning to face Joey, leaving his ass cantilevered off the edge, so he could get a better angle to continue the languorous kisses and work his own hand under Joey’s t-shirt, skimming over the curve of Joey’s hip and waist, and then circling his fingers around Joey’s nipple, making him shiver. The warmth that was suffusing the whole of him started to pool, low in his stomach, and when Chris traced the curve of Joey’s ring, a dull drag that sparked all the nerve endings where the metal moved in his flesh, Joey caught Chris’s hand flat against his chest and moved in for another kiss.

The first touch of tongue on his dry lips was electric hot, and the second and third – gentle dabs that asked for entrance and were a million miles away from the commanding, plundering kisses that Chris most often used to blow Joey’s mind – were irresistible. Joey touched his fingers to the curve of Chris’s jaw and opened his mouth a little, all delicate anticipation. Chris’s tongue touched against his teeth, courteously brushed his tongue, allowed him to carefully taste Chris’s mouth in return, and Joey couldn’t have said what Chris tasted of, apart from home and right.

Joey shifted again, rolling and using the arm that was still pinned under Chris’s shoulders to pull Chris more or less on top of him so they could kiss comfortably, and so he had a free hand to trace over Chris’s back and ass without worrying about Chris relaxing too much and falling off. Chris’s t-shirt was bunched up now, and Joey’s hand traced the dip of his back up and down, skimming from heavy denim to heated skin and back as they made out.

Made out like a couple of horny teenagers, except that Joey couldn’t imagine any teens having this much patience, this much calm; there was no pressure to move on to ‘the main course’ and no fear of getting caught, just Chris’s skin under his hand and Chris’s weight on him and Chris’s mouth teasing at his, and when Joey opened his eyes, Chris’s long lashes catching shadows on his cheekbones with his eyes shut to kiss with. Joey allowed his own to drift closed, with a happy sigh, and then a shiver as Chris’s hand moved from tracing the long line of Joey’s side to flicking lazily at one of Joey’s nipple rings. The left hand one. The one with the tiny C engraved on the ball.

“God, you’re good.” Joey breathed as he pulled back from the kisses for a second.

“Mmmmm. Not as much as you.” Chris replied, ruling out any argument by licking along Joey’s lower lip. His tongue felt like a brand, and Joey returned happily to the kissing, and the dance of careful fingers over half-bare skin, and all the ways they could say everything without words.

It was harder now, not to let the heat and tension in his groin dictate the pace, but Joey sucked down long careful breaths between kisses, and kept himself to lingering touches, soft kisses, and the unspoken agreement that they were waiting for Lance. Nothing below the waist – just like High School. Still, there came a point where Joey had to call a halt and take a bathroom break to give himself a minute to cool off. Chris let him go with a last lingering kiss, and then a swat to the butt.

When he came back, drying his hands on the thighs of his jeans, Chris had put the next disc in the series in, and was curled up in one corner of the oversized coach, patting the leather next to him. Joey smiled, and flopped into the space, sprawling with his head on Chris’s lap, and even before the opening credits started rolling Chris’s fingers were combing through the tangles at the back of his head. He kept meaning to go get his hair cut, but not actually getting around to it.

Chris’s petting was relaxing, though, and Joey squeezed his hand over Chris’s leg and arched his neck a little. He was digging himself in the chin with his own knuckles but Chris could stroke his neck and give him that shivery calm pleasure sensation, and his knuckles weren’t that bad.

“You like that, huh?” Chris’s voice was low and amused.

Joey poked Chris in the side of the thigh and theatrically wriggled until Chris had no option but to continue. Chris wriggled too, and they settled with one of Chris’s arms resting over Joey’s waist, and the other finger-combing Joey’s hair and slowly massaging his scalp.

“Like you, yeah.” Joey murmured, and then tried to focus on the screen. His eyelids were heavy though, and after a while it just seemed easier to listen to the show than to watch it.

Chris was talking, voice lifting in a quiet question as Joey dragged himself back towards consciousness, vaguely aware that he must have fallen asleep and that Chris would be expecting a reply. His hands were still warm, moving gently over Joey’s neck and shoulder and waist. Joey could almost hear the neurons firing to work out what was going on when Chris’s answer was a bass ‘mmhmm’ and the hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly and there were the wet sounds of a kiss he wasn’t involved in.

He scrubbed his hand over his eyes, blinking into the slightly brighter room, and tried to lever himself into a better position.

“Shhhh, Joe,” Lance broke away from the kiss to answer, leaning over Chris to brush his lips over Joey’s temple. “You’re good.”

“You’re home.”

“Stating-The-Obvious Man strikes again!” Chris teased, gently, but Lance had come around the couch, to kneel where he could kiss Joey properly, smelling of cool night air and Joey’s hand went to cup Lance’s neck and Chris’s hand was riding his, and it was so fucking good.

“We missed you,” Joey breathed when their lips parted, and when Lance’s eyes flicked up to look at Chris, Joey could feel Chris leaning forwards into the kiss, the two of them bridged over him, the way that all three of them were drawn back together, needing to touch. The hand that Joey had been lying on fitted so right around the curve of Lance’s hip, even with all that denim and leather in the way.

“Missed you, too.”

*****


End file.
